6 July, 2012

Lucid

It’s no secret to those who read this blog that I love absinthe. In fact, we had an absinthe cocktail throwdown for New Year’s Eve, and I was the main recipient of the drinks because, well, not everyone loves absinthe. Only a select few of us do, mostly deluded by our romanticism of the Roaring 20s in France and expatriatism. I make no claims otherwise. But I do love the stuff.

For my last birthday, the darling husband bought me an absinthe fountain so I could properly experience it. It’s gotten plenty of use already, but this is my first attempt at tasting the absinthe made with it for the blog.

Lucid is on the yellow side of absinthe, perhaps because they use no artificial coloring, which the label proudly announces.

All its ingredients come from France. It smells strongly of alcohol and licorice, but I’ll be surprised if any absinthe I taste differs from that profile. A quick taste pre-fountain makes my gums tingle from the heat of it, and the flavor of roots strikes me.

After the sugar cube has been dissolved by the dripping water and the volume doubled, I can drink it.

It’s still strong—I wouldn’t be able to drink it without the water and sugar. This absinthe is a slooooow sipper. Licorice is, of course, the strongest element, but I do still taste that presence of root: hardened, dry, with a bit of bark left to it. The body is like crème brulée. If I engage my imagination, I also taste thick, pasty cinnamon and pink peppercorns.

Lucid’s absinthe is a lot to take. It gives me that ultra-mellow, giggly tipsy that I love from absinthe, but it’s so strong that getting there can be a challenge.